


White Knight

by oddtwist



Category: The Blacklist (TV)
Genre: Character Study, Elevator, Friendship, Gen, Liz/Red-stuck with each other, Partnership
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-12
Updated: 2014-01-12
Packaged: 2018-01-08 11:27:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1132092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oddtwist/pseuds/oddtwist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Liz and Red get stuck in an elevator.<br/>About secrets & trust, bedtime stories, a scar and a key.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The elevator came to an abrupt halt between the sixth and the seventh floor. Liz immediately sought out the only other occupant with suspicion. Reddington did not even feign surprise and flashed her a bright smile.

“Alone at last.”

“Shut up, Red.” she replied testily, frustrated about her own stupidity.

She should have seen this coming. He had cleverly separated her from the others to get her alone in the last elevator, with the rest of the task force on their way up to the penthouse.

"Trust me Lizzy. It's all part of the plan."

“ _Your_ plan.”

Which was decidedly different from what they agreed upon with Cooper and the team. The idea to show him all four corners of the elevator held a vast appeal for her at that moment. They had prepared the raid on the drug dealer -number 55 on the list- for weeks and today all their hard work would pay off. An arrest was imminent and here she was, lodged between floors while the action was going down on the top floor.

"My plan, yes. You _do_ trust me don't you?"

Elizabeth turned her attention to the control panel.  "Yes Red, I trust you.” She started pushing buttons in a futile effort to get their ride moving again. “Wholeheartedly.”

"You know Lizzy, it's almost uncanny to see how easily you place your trust in people." Reddington took off his hat, ran his fingers through his decimated hair and regarded her curiously. "Very unusual for a woman in your profession. I would not have expected this from you."

His voice had adopted the arrogant lecture mode she had come to resent. Not only did it give her the feeling of being utterly stupid and incompetent; worst of it was that the man was usually right.

"Are you disappointed in your protégé, Red? Maybe you should have chosen someone else.” She gave up her attempts to get the elevator moving again and turned to him. “Oh, I forgot - you _can’t_. You’re stuck with little old me and you will have to live with that.”

He tilted his head and stared at her for a long minute.

“That’s an accurate assessment of our situation – quite literally this time.” he said.  “And you rather resent this, don’t you? I bet you envisioned your job at the FBI a little different. I bet you envisioned life in general a little different than it turned out for you. That must be extremely frustrating for you.”

“Trying to analyze me, are we? Doing a little amateur profiling on the side?

"Well, we do have some time on our hands...." He checked his watch." Twenty minutes to be precise. I can think of a wide range of exciting things we could be doing within the privacy of these four walls, but rest assured; my intentions are strictly honourable and sincere, and I think a warning about your trust issue is in order."

Liz sighed - the adrenaline that had been building up inside her quickly dissolved into frustrated acquiescence. She was angry with herself because she had allowed him to lure her away from the action. In twenty minutes it would all be over and Ressler and his team would have busted the drug dealer. Liz wanted to be there; be part of the action. Show the team that she was worthy of the task, that she was one of them, despite the fact that circumstances had forced them to work together. But Reddington had decided otherwise.  She knew it bothered him that their work together often put her in mortal danger. That business with the Stewmaker had gotten under his skin and Anslo Garrick had been the last straw. She’d noticed how he kept her out of the wind lately. She didn't like it, but there was nothing she could do about it. She was part of the team because of him but he was dictating the rules.

"I hate to see you making the same mistake over and over again, Lizzy." he said when she did not bite. "Even a toddler knows that you should be extra careful with people who constantly keep telling you that they can be trusted. Remember one of the first things I told you? Criminals are notorious liars Lizzy; I haven’t met an honest one yet. I must say that your behaviour up until now does not inspire much confidence. Your choice in husband is the worst ever and the way you so easily place your trust in me verges on naivety."

Liz looked up at him, her icy blue eyes conveying the unspoken message: don’t go there. Despite Reddington's warnings, she had decided to trust her own judgement. Even if Tom was planted on her path by the enemy -whoever that might be- he was not _that_ good an actor. Tom’s love was genuine - she knew that for a fact. They would find a way out of this together. Tom truly loved her and she grew tired of Red's attempts to drive a wedge between them.

"The principle of trust is very simple, really.” Liz said. “Individuals who display the motivation necessary to make decisions that benefit the partner or relationship at some cost to the self are generally considered to be trustworthy people.”

Red chuckled. "You never seize to baffle me with your ability to quote such dull textbook definitions, Lizzy." He recognized the evasive tactic, but allowed it, amusement playing around the corners of his mouth.

She ignored the insult. As long as they were stuck in the elevator, she might as well do the talking, instead of letting him ruin her emotional equilibrium with endless accusation about Tom - his favourite topic of conversation.

“With this in mind we can safely assume that I can trust you, since you were willing to trade your life for mine. _That_ in my book is the ultimate display of trust. You would rather die than see me come to harm."

"Things are not always the way they appear, Lizzy. Anslo would have gunned you down one by one if the brave Quantico recruits had not come to the rescue. His thugs would have killed all, including me if I hadn’t found a way out of the box.  I just increased my chances of survival by getting him the code so he didn't have to blow me up. Mind you, I'm glad Ressler was sensible enough to give us Romeo. I would have hated to see you die."

Liz smiled.

"You know Red, I would probably have believed you if it weren't for the stories."

"Stories?"

“It’s not the first time you so valiantly gave your life to keep me safe, now is it?"

He leaned back against the wall, crossed his arms and regarded her curiously.

"You have me at a disadvantage. Am I a saint and have forgotten about it?"

"I have never forgotten the stories.”

He cocked his head inquisitively.

" _What_ stories?”

"Sam used to tell me bedtime stories. I'm sure this was never your intention, but ever since you came into my life, these stories suddenly make sense. I now know that these tales have a core of truth in them. My trust in you is not simply based on your word - it is based on our mutual past and our connection to Sam. He was preparing me for future events by telling me about my past."

It pleased Liz to see that her words elicited a slight flicker in Red’s eyes. She noticed how he straightened up like a man bracing himself for something he did not want to hear. It felt good to be one step ahead of him for once.

"What did Sam tell you?”

Red was sure Sam had kept his end of the bargain and with his act of mercy _he_ had made sure that their secret would never reach Liz. But a pact made long ago would perhaps not be as strong as the bond between a father and child - even an adopted one.

"Sam knew how to tell a good story. He had the ability to create worlds you could easily envision in your mind. But I'm sure you already know that. You knew him very well didn't you?"

"You were going to tell me about the stories." He prompted, his fingers tapping on the brim of the fedora he held against his chest.

"My favourite version is the one about the Little Princess, the White Knight and the Jester.”

Liz watched him closely. He stared back at her – unmoved, then checked his watch again.

“I think we have time for a little fairytale until the real world unleashes itself on us again.”

 “All right.” Liz decided that now was as good a time as any to confront him with the facts. Maybe it would urge him to tell her more about her past and perhaps trust her the way she trusted him. “Here goes.”

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

“There was this Little Princess who was abducted by the Evil Wizard. He had taken her and her mother, the Beautiful Queen to his castle in the black woods. Her father the Good King was desperate, but he could not turn to his troops for help. They could not be trusted because the Evil Wizard had put a spell on them. There were only two people left who were not affected by the spell: his good friend the White Knight and a Jester. So the Good King asked the knight to accompany him on a secret quest deep inside the black woods to save his beloved wife and daughter. The Good King knew that the White Knight would not hesitate to help him, even though he did not owe the king his allegiance. The White Knight would not refuse because he loved the queen very dearly, even more perhaps than the king himself, yet the queen had chosen him over the White Knight. So they set out to save the king's wife and daughter, but when they came to the castle, terrible things happened and the queen was murdered in front of their very eyes. Then there was a big fire which threatened to trap the Little Princess. The White Knight managed to rescue her and bring her to safety. How am I doing so far?”

Reddington’s eyes had adopted an indiscriminate stare and she wasn’t sure if he was still listening. The question brought his wandering mind back to the here and now - eyelids fluttered and he resumed the finger drum on his hat.

“Do go on.” he urged, his smile slightly patronizing. “I would love to hear the conclusion.”

“The Evil Wizard lost his castle in the blaze and was of course very angry. He gathered his most fearless warriors and ordered the biggest manhunt in the land. But the Little Princess was never found.”

“She went into hiding.” he guessed.

“Yes, she was entrusted to the Jester, who brought her to a little village outside the Kingdom.”

“And she never went back to the Good King?”

“That would have been too dangerous. They all went separate ways. The Jester was above suspicion, so he was safe to be with. The girl remained with him and he raised her as his own daughter.”

“Ah, I see.” Red said as if the penny dropped.

Liz had never taken her eyes from him during her story and marvelled at his ability to show any sign of reaction at all. But she had learned how to spot those little signs of inner stirrings, barely contained underneath the surface. It was in the flutter of his eyes and she had registered each and every one of them, making a mental note of where in the story they occurred. This way she hoped to separate the truth from Sam’s own creative inspirations in case Reddington refused to enlighten her.

“Aren’t you curious about what happened to the White Knight?”

Of course he wasn’t. She was sure he had a fair idea about the rest of the tale, but he indulged her.

“What happened to the White Knight?”

“While the Little Princess lived in safety with the Jester, the White Knight was not so lucky. The Evil Wizard snatched him on the way home to his family and he was kept in a dungeon for many a year. But he never told the Evil Wizard where he could find the Little Princess. After many long years the Evil Wizard released him and forced him to work for him. He put a spell on the knight, that would slowly turn him into a Black Knight. He helped the Evil Wizard build his powerful empire and did many a bad thing, but he never ever betrayed the Jester and the Little Princess.“

The earth beneath their feet moved when the elevator resumed its function, shaking them both back to reality. Liz was almost sorry that the moment was lost - she had long waited for the opportunity to confront him with her knowledge of her past. There was so much more to say, so much more to ask.  Apparently Red shared her feelings. He hit the stop-button and they came to a halt again just below the top floor.

“Your trust in me is based on fairytales.” It was not so much a question as a statement.

“That and my research of course.”

“I find it hard to believe that in all the files there are about the Concierge of Crime, you managed to find anything positive on which to base your trust in a criminal like me.”

“I did not research the criminal.” Liz said. “I researched the officer he used to be, the loving husband, the caring father, the eager naval cadet and the brave boy who wanted to sail the seas in search for adventure. That Raymond Reddington had all the makings of a hero; a strong sense of justice, courage, integrity, the ability to make quick and difficult decisions. My trust is based on the newspaper article about a boy who climbed into an old well to save a lost cat and deliver it back to the old lady across the street.”

He smiled in surprise.

“That was in another lifetime, Lizzy, a previous life I no longer recognize.”

“I know you have been living on the dark side for a long time, Red" she said."I know it will be hard for you to start trusting again, but you will just have to slowly try and be comfortable with the fact that you _can_ trust me, the way you trusted Sam.”

Liz suddenly realized what this meant for a man like Reddington, having been on the run for so long with no one else to rely on than himself. It was a near impossible task to gain the complete trust of this man, especially with the knowledge Liz had about his past – an important piece of information she remembered from the many stories. Sam always avoided this particular version, because it was very sad and disturbing and it destroyed the wonderful fairytale of the Little Princess. Sam had mentioned it only once or twice, when he’d had a drink or two and forgot to finish his story with a happy ending. Liz distinctly remembered how bereaved and disillusioned it made her feel - for the truth of the matter was that the Good King had betrayed the White Knight.

“Once wounded by betrayal, it’s hard to let yourself be vulnerable again.” She saw the truth of that statement in the pain in his eyes, one of the rare occasions she was awarded a glance at the man hiding behind the Concierge of Crime. “One Good King turned bad should not ruin your faith in humanity.”

 “One Good King can turn a White Knight into a monster.”

“You’re not a monster. As much as you would like us all to believe that you’re a black knight, your colour is still basically white.....mixed with heavy shades of grey.”

He offered a bitter smile and found himself drastically re-evaluating his opinion about agent Keen. She was by no means naive and not at all prepared to play the part of the gullible pawn in this dangerous game they were playing. He could only admire her for the stamina and patience she displayed while tolerating the company of a terrible man who had thoroughly messed up her life - and she even seemed prepared to forgive him for it.

Liz hit the button for the top floor and they finally reached their destination. The elevator doors opened to a pandemonium of people and sounds. Before them stood Ressler, neat and unmoved as ever with his catch in handcuffs, looking from Liz to Reddington, not knowing what to make of their late arrival.

“To answer the unspoken question on your face, Donald; no we did not have sex in the elevator and I’m sure agent Keen is deeply offended that you should even think such a thing. You owe her an apology.”

Liz couldn’t help a half-smile when Ressler actually looked at her apologetically, but then, annoyed, her colleague pushed his prisoner into the elevator followed by six other agents, driving Liz and Reddington in a corner together.

As always Raymond Reddington had easily slipped back into his role with a cleverly placed remark to unbalance and confuse his audience, skilfully diverting the attention from where he didn’t want it.

He had once told Liz, that if anyone would give him a second chance it would be her. She still did not understand what he meant by that exactly, but somehow she knew that they had made a prudent start today. For him to be able to get a second chance, he would have to learn to trust her, like she trusted him - unconditionally. She had no idea where the ship they sailed was heading, but one thing was certain - she would need him as much as he needed her. Their destinies were interlinked by a terrible event in their past, that would find its conclusion in the future.

Sam had been telling her his special fairytales with a purpose; he had been preparing young Liz. Preparing her for things to come and most of all - he had been preparing her for Raymond Reddington; making sure that she would trust this man, making sure she understood that with the White Knight by her side she would be able to face the dangers that were in store for her.

Reddington moved closer in a way that was always slightly intimidating, but this time it did not bother her and she leaned in to hear what he had to say.

“We have all of one minute for one more story, Lizzy.” He whispered in her ear. “I’d be delighted to hear more.”

 _I bet you are dying to know what I know_ , Liz refrained from saying, but he’d have to earn it, by treating her as an equal, as someone he could trust.

“Oh, there is more Raymond, including some very intriguing stories about the Beautiful Queen and the White Knight before they married their respective partners.” She leaned in a bit closer, very much aware of the listening ears all around them. “But I think the next story deserves a little more privacy. I’m sure you can arrange another elevator malfunction at your convenience. There’s one particular story I’m dying to share with you. It concerns the Evil Wizard and a secret - and a key.”

Reddington’s eyes grew wide when Liz locked eyes with him and looked down, where she held up her hand, palm up, to reveal her scar. Wordlessly, very carefully, he took her hand and slowly pushed it down. He never let go - held it firmly, solidly, protectively - his eyes scanning the other occupants of the elevator from beneath the brim of his hat. She gave him a little squeeze in silent understanding. Their little secret would be safe until they were ready and the time was ripe for the White Knight to make amends and find redemption.

 

 


End file.
